Clothing the Akatsuki
by KNO
Summary: One-shot. Crack. The Akatsuki finally receive their robes, and complete their evil "image". T for some language, and pure stupidity.


_I was thinking about how the Akatsuki got their robes._

_And this came out._

_And FYI, this is **pure** Crack. Embrace it, fear it._

**As a Note:** _Imagine Pain with the voice and personality of Jack from_ Will & Grace_. If you haven't seen_ Will & Grace_, I suggest you go now and watch a short clip of Jack on _YouTube_. You'll get the personality better if you see it first. Not that it's total Jack, 'cause it's not. You'll see._

_This'll be waiting when you get back. Or, you know, you could be a smart one and use 'Tabs'. ;)_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Akatsuki members, Jack, Will & Grace, YouTube, or Guitar Hero, which I promptly suck at. Unfortunately.

* * *

Clothing the Akatsuki.

Pain bustled through the Akatsuki's "lair", his patience running thin with his "friends". They had just received the finished project of their evil image: robes with red clouds. And Pain, being the leader, was obligated to assure everything was right. Unfortunately.

He ran into Konan first; she was adjusting her robe where it fit too tight in some places.

"Konan, girlfriend, that blue hair is just _so_ not working for you. Dye it red or something. Just get rid of it," suggested Pain sympathetically, patting Konan's shoulder before speeding off further.

Konan, clearly offended, pulled off her robe, and stomped on it. She stalked off to her room, vowing to herself that if Pain so much as criticized her again, he would find a big, paper dagger in his heart the next morning.

Pain, who wasn't aware he now had a reason to lie awake at night, reached Kisame and Hidan, along with Kakuzu. They were all arguing, predictably. Pain tsked at Kisame, whose blue skin was even worse with the robe than Konan's hair! Shameful, really. Pain walked over to the three, examining them all thoroughly, finally instructing Kisame to just burn his robe, it just wasn't working. Kisame's eyes widened in shock and sadness, and soon, his expression much resembled his blue skin. Pain turned to Hidan, whose huge stick thing was in his way.

"Move your huge stake thing out of my way, Hidan," Pain's hands flying to his hips.

Hidan's eyes narrowed, but he did so. Pain started off once more. But not before he heard Hidan's comment.

"I frickin' _kill_ you!" Hidan muttered murderously.(1)

"I heard that! And you couldn't possibly kill all of me! Muahahahaha!" called Pain over his shoulder as he continued on.

Kisame let out a particularly loud bawl and ran to a corner, flailing tears and snot.

"Suck it up, you big baby!" barked Hidan, walking over to Kisame, his huge "stake" in hand.

Kakuzu quirked an eyebrow. How in hell did he get stuck with such a clueless group? _Even better, how in hell did I agree to not have a life when I joined these losers? Gah. I've gotta be losing money somehow in this equation._ And Kakuzu ran off as well, going to check his finances.

"Tobi, does my hair look better parted to the left . . . or the right?" was what Pain heard as he came upon Deidara and Tobi.

Tobi snorted.

"What makes you think you look good at all?" shot Tobi, his mask hiding the grin plastered on his face.

Deidara scoffed, and turned away from the mirror he had been looking at to send a withering glance to Tobi.

"Silly goose, I _always_ look good."

"You sure do," quipped Tobi sarcastically, in an undertone. A second later, he cried out in that spastic way he had, "Tobi is a good boy!"

"Deidara, Tobi, robes?" asked Pain upon entry, rolling his eyes at their conversation.

"They're itchy in all the wrong places!" complained Deidara, stamping and jumping in the way that two year olds do when they throw a tantrum.

"I like them, Leader," said Tobi, his tone hopeful for a reward. "They're roomy . . . and you can hide things in them!"

Pain grinned. That put a positive outlook on things.

"I hate them," said Sasori on coming into the room, his face sullen.

"You hate everything," commented Deidara, turning back to the mirror, switching his hair side to side to view a better version.

"That's true," seconded Pain to Sasori.

Sasori stared at Pain. And stared. And stared.

Eventually, Pain grew tired of the festivities, and what with Tobi shouting "Tobi is a good boy!" every ten seconds, Pain wanted to leave before he started joining Tobi in the loud expression, and ruined his position as "leader".

Pain found Itachi in the back room of the "lair", already wearing his robe, and playing Guitar Hero.

"Da na na na!" sang Itachi, his loud vibrato making Pain cover his ears.

"Idiot, turn it down!"

"Not a chance, Pain! I _rock_!" yelled Itachi, holding a hand above his head that read 'rock on'.

Pain rolled his eyes and ventured to where Guitar Hero was plugged up. Pain pulled the cord, and Itachi's singing dropped immediately.

"Hey!" Itachi protested, the plastic guitar hanging limply in his hands. "I was rockin' out to that, dude!"

"I don't care," Pain answered honestly, coming out from behind the television. "Are your robes to your liking?"

"Nah, man. The Man put these into production, and I don't dig that."

Pain rolled his eyes.

"Well, we paid for the 'Man' to make these, then," informed Pain.

Itachi took a second to figure that one out.

"No way, man! We can't be endorsing the _Man_! I refuse to be a part of this group!" declared Itachi, crossing his arms, set.

"You already _are_."

Itachi looked dumbfounded.

"Aw, man!" he groaned.

Pain shook his head. He didn't know why he lived and dealt with such stupid people. Seriously. No one could hustle like Pain, or be sarcastic like Pain. . . .(2)

"It should just be a Pain-fest, all the damn time!" exclaimed Pain randomly, his shout echoing in the quiet room.

Itachi gave his leader a look.

_Ooookaaaaay. Psycho._

"Gah!" shouted Pain, and he stormed out, to his room, ready to question just why he called himself 'Akatsuki'.

* * *

(1) If you haven't seen Jeff Dunham and Achmed the Dead Terrorist, you probably didn't get this. By the way, Jeff Dunham owns that phrase. I just made use of the 'frickin'.

(2) Hustle as in the dance in the 70s. Yeah.

_If you thought this was stupid, please raise your hand. . . ._

_Um . . . ahem, I mean, REVIEW!_


End file.
